


The Only Cure

by ChaosRocket



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Rated for cursing, Romance, Thiefshipping, Tomb Robbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 11:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17120825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosRocket/pseuds/ChaosRocket
Summary: Prompt from Taemanaku: Bakura is hurt while robbing a tomb, and Malik, who is skilled in magic and healing, is the only one who can help him.Happy birthday Malik!





	The Only Cure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Taemanaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taemanaku/gifts).



> For Taemanaku for the holidays! 
> 
> In this fic, Malik is called Mahes, a name I've used for him in a couple other ancient Egypt fics I've written. His name means "he who is true beside her" and is also the name of an Egyptian god of war and protection. Bakura is called Bakari, a name originally used for him in a fic Sitabethel and I co-wrote and which she came up with. His name means "noble oath."
> 
> Thanks to Mainstream Deviant for the beta!

Bakari had been creeping along a narrow ledge inside a tomb, on his way back from collecting the treasure he'd found in the main chamber. The heavy bag of treasure had made it difficult to balance on the ledge, but he'd had no choice; it was the only way back.

He had carefully stepped over a trip wire he'd first noticed on the way in. That was when he'd made his mistake. He'd managed to clear the trip wire, but after making it to the other side of it, he'd felt overbalanced and set his bag of treasure on the ledge next to him for just a second. Of course, he hadn't set it close enough to the wire to trigger it.

But as soon as he'd set the bag down, he'd heard a slow grinding sound, and that was when he'd realized there was a weighted tile underneath the wire. He hadn't noticed it at all on his way to get the treasure, having avoided it entirely when stepping over the wire.

So he'd set the bag down without noticing the suspicious tile, and the weight of the bag had pressed the tile down, triggering a trap. Luckily, his body was already mostly out of the way of the trap, having already cleared its triggers, so the arrow that shot out of the opposite wall didn't catch him in the chest or stomach.

But it did strike his hand, and—he was still angry about this—had caused him to drop the bag of treasure straight down the pit beneath the ledge he'd been standing on.

The arrow had sliced clean through his palm, and he'd broken it in half and pulled it out with a shouted expletive. Then he'd hightailed it out of there. He'd hated to leave with nothing, but he had good instincts—once a job went bad, you didn't stick around.

After getting back to the cave where he slept, he'd cleaned and bandaged the wound. He'd been annoyed, but had thought the injury wasn't too bad. At worst, it would prevent him from robbing tombs for a few weeks, but it would heal well enough.

It was the next day when he realized the arrow had been cursed. His entire hand had turned a blackish-brown color, and the skin had started to shrivel, mummy-like.

He knew then that he had two choices: he could cut off his hand at the wrist to keep the curse from spreading to the rest of his body...or he could try to find a cure.

He certainly didn't want to spend the rest of his days trying to rob tombs one-handed, so that left finding a cure.

However, he knew he needed a magical cure, and unfortunately he'd never been much good with magic. Being unable to read made it impossible for him to understand magical tomes or scrolls, and any potions or spells he'd tried to do on pure instinct alone had, quite literally, blown up in his face.

He'd thought it didn't matter. He didn't need magical powers; he had all the power he could ever need in Diabound.

But of course, Diabound couldn't help with this problem. He wished now that he'd put effort into learning to read and teaching himself magic. But it was far too late for that now. The curse would likely spread quickly, considering how fast it had consumed his hand already. He probably didn't have more than a few days before it reached past his shoulder and into his chest, and then even cutting off a limb wouldn't save him.

So he had to find a healer who was skilled in counter-curse magic. However, any healer knowledgeable enough about this curse to be able to reverse it would know he could have only been infected with it while trying to rob a tomb. And there weren't many healers who would be willing to treat a tomb thief.

In fact, there was only one.

Bakari never talked to other people, but he did sometimes eavesdrop on other thieves and tomb robbers in the hidden corners of the country where they were known to congregate and tell each other stories while drinking stolen wine. It was a good way to gather information and keep up on the news of the kingdom.

His habit of occasionally listening in on the groups of bandits was certainly proving itself useful now.

A few times, he'd heard them talk of an underground healer who treated only criminals, people who had defied the kingdom by breaking its laws.

The man was known only as Mahes. Bakari had always thought it was a bit conceited of the man to have named himself after a god. (Mahes was, of course, not his real name.)

But he had to admit that, even never having met the guy, he did harbor a sort of respect for him. According to the stories, he'd been born within the walls of a wealthy city near the palace, part of a noble family line that was trusted and respected by the Pharaoh and his court. Those who were part of his lineage were tasked with guarding some of the most important royal tombs, and were paid handsomely for their trouble.

So the one known as Mahes could have had an easy life of relative luxury. But somehow, he'd come to hate the royalty who ruled over the kingdom. No one seemed to know why, or what exactly had happened to the man to cause him to turn against the Pharaoh. Bakari could only imagine. But whatever it was, it had caused the man to decide to flee out into the desert and then make it his mission in life to help those who defied the Pharaoh and his laws.

Bakari couldn't help but feel some level of admiration for anyone who truly hated the Pharaoh and made it a point to stand against him and his hypocritical rules.

Still, though, Bakari didn't trust anybody. He hated the idea of having to go to another person for help.

But he really had no choice.

Luckily, he'd heard enough stories to know where to find this healer of thieves. So he packed up some gold and jewels—surely enough for any payment the man would require—and set out on his horse for the hidden cave where he ran his business.

Night had fallen by the time he got there, but that was alright. This particular healer’s patients only ever came to him under the cover of darkness.

What was a problem was the fact that, when he got to the cave where the healer supposedly operated, he found the mouth of the cavern had been entirely sealed over by large rocks.

Had he misunderstood the overheard location of the healer? Or had the healer moved on to a new place since he'd last heard the thieves discussing him? Or had he been killed in a cave-in?

Hell, maybe he'd been captured and executed months ago. It had been a while since he'd last heard the healer mentioned. He didn't like people, so he didn't often go to the places where they congregated. He only listened in on conversations between his fellow thieves occasionally.

Bakari snorted. This was just his luck. Maybe he really would end up having to cut off his hand.

He sighed, calling Diabound. As long as he was here, he may as well have Diabound go inside and investigate.

Diabound appeared, then did as he was ordered and phased through the wall of the cave.

Seconds later, Bakari heard a loud shout of surprise, and then the rocks in front of him shimmered, quickly fading into nothing.

Suddenly, he could see inside the cave, and he was now staring at a man with brilliant violet eyes and sunlight-gold hair sitting on a mat of reeds among countless tomes, scrolls, little colored bottles of liquid and baskets of herbs.

“You could have just knocked,” the man said, deadpan.

Bakari snorted. “The rocks were just a magical illusion? Clever, I must admit.”

“Can't have the wrong people finding me,” the healer replied. He looked up at Diabound. The huge ka must have seemed menacing to him as it hovered near him. “Call back your ka.”

Bakari scoffed. “I don't take orders from you.”

A small smile appeared on the healer’s face for just a second. “Suit yourself. But I won't treat you if you don't.”

“We’ll see about that,” Bakari said, stepping forward.

But when he reached the mouth of the cave, he was pushed back by an invisible force.

“Call him back, and I'll let you in.”

“I could order him to attack you,” Bakari replied. “That might change your mind.”

“You know, the people who come to me usually don't have many other options,” the healer—Mahes—said. “Are you really so determined to make an enemy of the only person who can help you?”

“I don't want to make you my enemy,” Bakari said, giving the healer a toothy grin. “I just want to make sure we're clear on who’s in charge here.”

Mahes actually had the nerve to roll his eyes at him, which infuriated Bakari. “Do you really believe the best way to go about getting help from me is to threaten me?” Mahes asked. “Not too smart, are you? You may not be worth my time to save.”

Bakari growled. The terrible thing was, he knew the healer was right. Making threats wasn't a good way to get what he wanted from this man. But he hated feeling helpless, feeling like he was depending on someone else, like he needed someone.

“I just don't trust anyone,” Bakari said, and then was immediately shocked that he'd just admitted that out loud. Was he really so starved for human interaction that he felt compelled to open up to the first person he talked to? Maybe it was just that he hadn't had a conversation with another person in so long that he'd forgotten how.

Mahes smiled at him then, his eyes softening a bit, but that only made Bakari angrier, mad at his own sudden vulnerability, like a trapped and wounded animal snapping at the person who tried to free it.

“If you're here, then you know who I am,” Mahes said. “I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help people like you. But you have to work with me a little.”

Bakari snarled. Mahes clearly wasn't afraid of Diabound—and that made Bakari angry too—so he didn't know why he was so insistent about Bakari calling him back. “Fuck you,” he said. “If you think I take orders from anyone, then you don't know who I am.”

“It's not an order,” Mahes said calmly. “It's an offer. Call him back, and you come inside. Do you accept the deal? If you do, then you can come over here to me and we can see if we can make another one.”

That actually made Bakari feel a little better, but still he hesitated.

“I can see your hand from here,” Mahes said after a few moments of silence. “Either I heal that, or you cut it off. Or it kills you. I really think you _are_ smart enough to see the best option for yourself here.”

Bakari glared at Mahes, but finally, he did call Diabound back. “You're a real asshole, you know that?” Bakari grumbled.

Mahes just smiled and tossed some kind of powder towards the entrance of the cave. Bakari saw the air shimmer, and then Mahes said, “Alright, the barrier is gone.”

Bakari stepped inside, and as soon as he was in, the illusory rocks appeared behind him again, hiding the cave from view.

Bakari looked behind himself and scoffed. “How are people supposed to find you like this, anyways? Doesn't seem very good for business.”

“The people who truly need me find me,” Mahes said with a mysterious air. “You did, didn't you?”

Bakari snorted and sat down on the mat across from Mahes. “You know I can just call Diabound back at any time, right?”

“And I have many ways to protect myself,” Mahes said. “But I wanted a show of good faith from you. Surely you understand I can't trust just anyone who comes traipsing around here.”

Bakari grit his teeth, but decided to let the matter drop. This argument wasn't turning out in his favor. “So, you said you want to make another deal? How much will it cost me to get this fixed?” Bakari indicated his hand, and then the sack of treasure he'd brought with him.

“We’ll see,” Mahes said. “I like to get to know my patients a bit first before I decide what payment I require.”

“So the payment is that I have to talk to _you_?” Bakari said. “I think I might prefer to just cut off my hand.”

Mahes smirked. “Let me see it.”

Begrudgingly, Bakari held out his arm. Mahes took his hand and began examining it, turning it this way and that.

“How did you manage this, anyways?”

Bakari rolled his eyes. “If you don't know, then you're not a very learned curse healer, are you?”

“You're quite the asshole yourself, aren't you?” Mahes smiled. “I know it must have been a trap in a tomb you were trying to rob. But I want the story. That's the only excitement I get out here, really—hearing about the adventures you thieves have.”

“The story is that I fucked up, alright?” Bakari snapped. He snatched his hand back. “You want to get to know each other better, huh? Then what's your story? Why do you hate the Pharaoh?”

Bakari certainly wasn't going to give any type of information about himself without getting something in return. Besides, he was curious.

But Mahes only said, “Well...that's not a story I tell to just anyone.” Mahes glanced away for a moment.

Bakari let out a huff of irritation. “Are you always this difficult?”

“Well, how about you?” Mahes asked. “Why do you hate our revered god and master?”

“Who says I hate him?” Bakari returned. “Maybe I just like gold.”

“That would be something we have in common,” Mahes said, indicating the shining gold bracelets and anklets he wore, tilting them so they caught the light of the fire that burned in the center of his cave.

“You do have decent taste,” Bakari admitted. “But you know, if you would have stayed put instead of running away to do this, you could have had practically all the gold you wanted.”

“There are more important things than gold,” Mahes said vaguely. Then he nodded towards Bakari’s hand. “That will take a couple days for me to heal. You'll need to stay here for two nights. I'll have to do a spell on it each morning, and throughout the day tomorrow.”

“Wait, I seriously have to stay here with _you_ for two days?” Bakari said, his eyes widening. “That whole cutting off my hand thing is looking better and better.”

Mahes laughed. “I'll get the salve ready. As payment for that...if you don't want to talk about how you fucked up, how about you tell me another story? Something exciting. I'm sure you must have some good tales.”

“Oh, I've done lots of epic things,” Bakari assured him. “In fact, if you had any idea who I was, you wouldn't be treating me like this, making demands and speaking so disrespectfully. You'd fear me. And you should.”

Mahes had walked over to the other side of the cave to begin mixing the salve in a small clay bowl. “And who are you?”

Bakari knew he shouldn't tell him. Giving this information to the wrong person could be dangerous. But he wanted to...certainly not _impress_  Mahes, but just...make sure he was getting the proper respect from him. “My name is Bakari, and I'm the Thief King.”

Mahes looked up from his task, surprise registering on his face for a moment. “You really are, aren't you?”

“I take it you've heard of me,” Bakari said, a smug smile appearing on his face.

“Of course,” Mahes replied. “You can't hold the job I do without hearing all about the Thief King. Hell, I knew about you before I ran away from the palace. If you've done even half the things they say, you really must have some stories.”

Bakari smiled with pride. “Oh, I've done twice the things they say.”

Mahes finished mixing the salve and came back to sit across from Bakari. “Okay, then tell me one story. Then I'll give you this. Deal?” He indicated the bowl.

Bakari didn't mind this deal. He'd never before gotten to brag about his exploits to anyone, and Mahes actually did seem a bit impressed to be meeting the legendary Thief King. “Alright, I'll tell you how I got this scar.” Bakari pointed at the crisscross scar underneath his right eye, and Mahes nodded for him to go on. “So, I was robbing this tomb, right? I'd just leapt over a weighted tile, and then went into a roll as soon as I landed to make it under a trip wire. I was almost to the chamber with the treasure. But then this guard suddenly jumped out from behind a column! I stood up to face him, and before I knew it, his hand darted out and he slashed me right under my eye with a knife. I was mad, obviously, so I called Diabound. And you should have seen that guard scream! Diabound knocked him over, and he scrambled to get up just so he could run away as fast as he could! After that, I had an easy trek on to the treasure chamber, and I got one of my best hauls in a while. I didn't have any issue avoiding the traps on the way out, and that guard was either too scared or too slow to call in reinforcements. So I made it out with a whole sack of gold and jewels and perfume, and then I went back to the place I sleep and cleaned up my eye and put some balm on it. Didn't need a healer for that one.”

Mahes had actually looked entranced throughout the story, and when Bakari finished, he smiled and said, “Alright, I think that was worth the salve.”

Bakari held out his arm with a proud look on his face. He couldn't resist saying, “So, you see, if you were smart, you'd be afraid of me. Me and Diabound.”

Mahes took his hand and began working the salve into it. Bakari had already lost feeling in the appendage, so he couldn't feel the pasty medicine or Mahes’s fingers pressing into his palm, but the salve smelled like honey and citrus.

“I don't think I should be afraid of you,” Mahes finally said. “We’re on the same side, aren't we?”

Bakari gave him a measured look. “Maybe.”

Bakari’s body suddenly stiffened as Mahes’s hand travelled a little farther up his arm, past the blackened skin and onto the area where his skin was still healthy and capable of feeling, and he let out a loud gasp at the sensation before he could help it. He snatched his arm back.

Mahes looked at him calmly. “The curse will try to spread during the night. I need to get the magical salve all the way up your arm to prevent that.”

Bakari took a breath and forced himself to offer his arm again. He sucked air through his teeth as Mahes took his arm in his hands again. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him, and it made him nervous.

“I could tell you a story of my own in return for yours,” Mahes offered, and Bakari got the feeling he was just talking to distract him from the feeling of his fingers massaging the salve into the skin of his arm, to try to calm him down. “Let's see...want to hear about the youngest patient I ever treated?” Bakari didn't respond, but Mahes continued anyways. “She was little girl. Couldn't have seen more than nine or ten harvests, as they say in the villages. She'd been stealing from the market. Now normally, I only treat tomb robbers...but apparently she'd managed to steal from the wrong person, and she caught a curse for her trouble. Sweetest little thing. She was only stealing to help her family—they were poor, could barely afford food. She was in here with her parents, of course, and all she could worry about was the fact that she didn't get away with the meat she'd been trying to steal so her little sister could eat, and how much it was going to cost her parents to get her curse lifted. Didn't charge them, of course.”

Bakari did find himself distracted from what Mahes was doing to his arm as Mahes spoke. He noticed Mahes was talking to him now in a much more casual and easy manner, in contrast to the professional and slightly haughty air he'd had since they'd first laid eyes on each other. And it wasn't really a bad story.

But when Mahes finished his story, Bakari scoffed. “That supposed to impress me?”

Mahes smirked as his fingers continued to glide over the skin on Bakari’s arm, raising goosebumps where he touched. “What, you're allowed to brag and I'm not?” Bakari laughed a bit at that, and then Mahes let go of his arm. “All done.”

“Thanks,” Bakari grunted before he could help it.

Mahes got up, turning away from him. “I know you can't feel anything now, but that will start hurting later, probably sometime during the night. You should take some wine before we go to sleep.”

“Wouldn't turn it down.”

Mahes came back with a bottle of deep red liquid. “Got this as payment from my last patient. She stole it from a tomb, of course, so it's the good stuff.”

Bakari smiled. “Good, because I only like the best.”

Mahes popped open the bottle and took a small sip before passing it to Bakari, who downed a good portion of it in one gulp.

When he passed the bottle back to Mahes, Mahes said, “I don't normally drink alcohol when I'm working, when I've still got a patient here, but...you've been _especially_ trying. I think I deserve it.” Bakari let out a derisive scoff, and Mahes took a swig from the bottle and then handed it back to him. Bakari downed another big gulp.

“I wouldn't mind another story,” Mahes said as he grabbed the bottle from Bakari again. Mahes took another modest drink. “Tell me about another adventure you've had.”

Bakari grinned. “Alright, but I want another story from you in return. A more exciting one. We're making deals here, right?”

Mahes chuckled. “Alright, it's a deal.”

Bakari snatched the bottle back for himself again, and then started in on a story of another close call he'd had in a tomb before he'd managed to make a daring escape. In return Mahes gave him a story about the time he was the victim of an inexpertly cast curse himself when he'd refused to treat someone for what he assured Bakari were very valid reasons.

Then Mahes asked for another story, and of course Bakari had to have one in return.

They traded stories like that for a while, passing the bottle back and forth, until Bakari suddenly asked, “So, ever killed anyone?”

“On purpose?” Mahes asked. He was slurring his words a bit by now, swaying where he sat.

“What, have you killed anyone by accident?”

“Can't always save everyone,” Mahes admitted.

“Oh, great,” Bakari said. “As your patient, that really inspires confidence in me.”

Mahes just laughed.

“So…” Bakari looked at him with a gleam in his eyes. “Any on purpose, then?”

“Just one,” Mahes confessed.

Bakari leaned towards him. “Tell me.”

“My father,” Mahes said, and Bakari reeled back a bit in shock. He didn't think Mahes would be admitting this if he weren't so drunk, but he was apparently past the point where he was able to control his tongue.

“I assume you had a good reason.”

“Ah, he was a bastard,” Mahes said. “Used to beat up on me and my mother. Only left my sister alone because she was destined to be a priestess in the Pharaoh’s court. My mother wanted to leave...tried to take me with her...but of course, that was a betrayal of the Pharaoh. Leaving her duties, trying to take me away from my job as a tomb guard. My father was the one who turned her in. They executed her.”

“I'm sorry,” Bakari said sincerely. He could sympathize with anyone who had been screwed over by the elites who lorded over the kingdom. “Definitely don't blame you for hating all the royals.”

“Fuck,” Mahes said. He obviously hadn't meant to spill all that information. “Well, now you have to tell me why you hate them. And don't tell me you just like gold. You're the Thief King. Everyone knows you have it out for the Pharaoh, for the whole palace. You'd have to, to do everything you've done.”

Bakari was drunk, but that wasn't why he decided to tell him. Somehow, in such a short time, he really had come to respect and even...trust Mahes. Besides, Mahes had told him what was probably his darkest secret, so it was only fair, really. They were making deals, after all, and Mahes had been holding up his end of their bargains so far.

So he told him about Kul Elna. Not all the details, but the basics, about the slaughter of his people, and about the spell that required a sacrifice to create the Millennium Items.

Mahes’s eyes grew rounder and rounder as he talked, and when he was done, Mahes said, “I'm sorry, too.” After a pause he said with a scoff, “Sounds like something they'd do, though. The way those royals treat the people...I'm not surprised.”

“Yeah,” Bakari agreed. But he didn't want to continue the conversation. He'd never told anyone about what had happened, and though in some ways it felt satisfying to get it out, and despite how he'd warmed to Mahes, he still felt awkward about it, and suspected he'd be regretting this in the morning when he was sober. “Well, I'm about to pass out.”

“Good idea.” Mahes nodded. “Well, you can pull up a mat.”

Bakari did, and he was asleep seconds after he'd curled up on the sleeping mat.

Bakari woke up the next morning to Mahes poking him in the calf with his foot.

“Time to get up, asshole,” Mahes said. “Gotta treat that hand.”

Bakari groaned, rolling over to look up at Mahes. “Do I get breakfast first?”

Mahes snorted. “Expect me to make it for you, do you?”

“I'm a guest,” Bakari pointed out.

Mahes rolled his eyes. “Sure, fine. Don't want you messing around with my stuff anyways.”

Bakari smiled as he dragged himself up. Mahes called back, “By the way, it's not breakfast. You slept until lunch time.”

“Was up late,” Bakari responded.

Bakari didn't regret the last night as much he'd thought he would, but he could tell there was an air of tension between them that afternoon as Mahes cooked up some fish and then served it to Bakari along with some fruit and a mug of water.

As they sat eating across from each other, Mahes suddenly gave him a serious look and said, “What I told you last night...well, being totally honest, I've never admitted that to another person before. So please don't mention it to anyone. If word got around and people were able to identify who I used to be before I defied the Pharaoh, it could be very bad for me.”

Bakari pretended to think for a moment. “Well, how about we make another deal? I won't tell anyone what you told me...and you don't tell anyone that I'm the Thief King. You understand it would be bad for me as well to be identified.”

Mahes nodded solemnly. “It's a deal, then.”

They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Bakari could tell Mahes was still a bit tense, and really, he was as well. Neither of them had meant to tell each other such personal things the previous night. Bakari got the feeling Mahes wasn't any more used to getting close to other people than he was, despite his job that involved meeting many others.

Neither one of them trusted others easily. But there was something about Mahes. They were so similar—their personalities as well as their pasts—and it allowed them to relate easily to each other, even understand each other. And during their night of drinking, they'd developed a kind of camaraderie. And Bakari could tell that, even if he wasn't the type to say it, Mahes had as much respect for him as he did for Mahes. Sympathy, too, though that thought made him feel awkward.

After breakfast was done, Mahes quickly cleaned up, then approached Bakari with a knife. “I'm going to have to cut.”

“Wait, what?” Mahes had been telling the truth about how Bakari’s hand would start hurting in the night. It now throbbed with a dull ache. It wasn't too awful, but he still wasn't terribly enthused about the idea of getting it sliced open.

“I'll need to put a potion under your skin,” Mahes explained. Mahes set the knife down in front of Bakari and then went to fetch a bowl of green goop that Bakari had seen him preparing while he was making breakfast.

Bakari sighed, and when Mahes sat across from him and picked up the knife again, he grit his teeth and held his arm out.

He supposed he could trust that Mahes at least knew what he was doing. The curse hadn't spread further during the night, and actually seemed to have receded a little.

“Sorry, but this is going to hurt,” Mahes admitted. “Probably a lot.”

“Great.”

“I'm sure a strong, hardened thief like you can handle it.” Mahes gave him a wink.

Bakari rolled his eyes at the sarcasm.

Mahes made a cut just over the back of his wrist then, and Bakari sucked in breath. It hurt, but it wasn't unbearable.

Then Mahes picked up the pot with the potion in it. Its scent wasn't pleasant like the salve’s had been. This mixture smelled weedy and bitter.

But Bakari couldn't think about the bad smell anymore when Mahes poured the potion over his wound. Bakari had to bite his tongue to keep himself from embarrassing himself by crying out. Then Mahes started using his fingers to poke the potion farther into the cut, and the pain intensified, making him feel like his hand was on fire. He still managed not to scream, but he knew there were quiet, pained noises emanating from his throat as his breath came quick through his nose.

Mahes raised his other hand, the one not covered in potion, and placed it on Bakari’s arm, where the skin was still undamaged. He rubbed his arm gently. Bakari was in too much pain to reject the comforting gesture.

“It's alright,” Mahes soothed, his palm sliding softly over the skin. “It'll hurt less soon.”

Bakari let out a whimper, though he didn't know if it was from the pain or from the tender way Mahes was touching him.

Time passed, and the pain did begin to recede. Mahes kept stroking his arm. Bakari couldn't help leaning into the touch a little. Then Bakari looked up to see Mahes staring at him with wide violet eyes, and Bakari met his gaze.

His breathing was still heavy as he stared into Mahes’s eyes, their gazes locked, and he thought he heard Mahes’s breath quicken as well.

It still seemed sudden when Mahes leaned in and kissed him. For a second he froze in shock, but then he thought _ah, fuck it_ , and kissed him back. Why not?

He had to admit to himself Mahes was attractive. And he certainly did nothing to hide it, wearing only a shenti and his gold jewelry, showing off his tight midriff and muscled chest and sculpted legs.

Bakari had seen other attractive men around, but he'd never kissed anyone. Mahes was really the only person he'd felt comfortable enough with so far to allow something like this to happen, so there was no sense in wasting the opportunity. Who knew when or if he'd have another? He hated most people, so something such as this wasn't likely to happen again with someone else.

Mahes seemed encouraged by the way Bakari was now kissing him back, even if he was doing it in an inexpert way, and Mahes pressed in closer and opened his mouth, beginning to lick at Bakari’s lips. Bakari opened his mouth and let him inside.

And then before he knew it Mahes was pushing him backwards, down onto the mat. Bakari let him, finally allowing himself to put his arm around Mahes’s taut middle as Mahes’s hand buried itself in his hair and gripped the back of his head.

Bakari didn't know how long they kissed like that, Mahes’s weight on top of him now as he lay on his back, Mahes’s tongue exploring his mouth, and Bakari’s hand beginning to stroke along Mahes’s spine.

It was...good to be close to someone like this. At least, as long as it was someone like Mahes. So Bakari let himself enjoy it and lost track of time as he was overwhelmed by the feeling of Mahes’s warm body and warmer mouth against his.

But suddenly Mahes broke their contact, pulling away and yelling, “Oh, fuck! How long has it been? I need to put more potion into your hand!”

Bakari scowled at him. “You're kidding.”

“Sorry.” Mahes gave him an apologetic look.

Bakari sighed, sitting up and holding his arm out again.

Mahes scooped more potion out of the pot, again rubbing it into the cut on Bakari’s wrist, and when Bakari hissed with the pain Mahes’s other hand started rubbing his arm again.

Once the pain had receded a little, Mahes looked up at him with a smirk and said, “I can kiss you again, if you think it'll help distract you from the pain.”

Bakari smirked back. “Oh, is that your excuse?”

Mahes gave him a smile that actually looked a little sheepish. “Well, whatever works.”

Bakari grinned. “Come here.”

They kissed again, longer this time. It went on until Mahes said it was time for another dose of the potion, and Bakari groaned. But he got more kisses after Mahes had rubbed the potion into his wound.

Things continued like that until finally, Mahes said he'd given him the last dose of the potion. By then, it was time for dinner.

Bakari was excited when he found out Mahes had some salted pork stored.

“Yeah, you said it was your favorite,” Mahes commented.

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Bakari had been drunk enough to make his memories a bit fuzzy, but he smiled at Mahes having remembered. “So, can we eat it? What kind of deal do I have to make in order to get that pork?”

“Oh, after dinner you're going to clean all the dishes I've been using to feed and treat you.”

“Like hell I am!”

“Then maybe I'll just feed you plain bread and water instead.”

Bakari snarled. He really wanted the pork. And it wasn't that he didn't think it was fair to help out a bit after the way Mahes had been tending to him for the last two days. But he couldn't just give in. The fact that he'd kissed Mahes didn't mean he was going to suddenly start taking orders from him. He thought for a while and finally said, “Alright, I'll clean the dishes, but along with the pork, I want some of your beer this time, not just plain water. And more of that fruit, too. _And_ a piece of bread. And...I think I saw you had some cheese over there, so some of that too.” He nodded to himself. “That's the deal.”

“Greedy.” Mahes laughed. But he got out the pork and began roasting it over the fire.

As Mahes made their meal, Bakari asked, “So, how much more pain will I have to go through before this thing is healed?”

“Well...I'd recommend having some more wine tonight. It might feel worse during the night.”

“Great.”

“I can kiss it and make you feel better.” Mahes winked and Bakari couldn't stop the blush that stole over his cheeks.

Soon Mahes had served up the pork along with the fruit, bread, cheese, and a jar of beer for each of them.

After they started eating, Mahes asked him for another story about his adventures in tomb robbing and Bakari happily graced him with it.

He kept waiting to feel awkward about what they'd been doing all day, the way they'd been kissing, but it never happened. Somehow, things felt easy with Mahes. Natural. Almost...right.

His hand was better, too. He found it hard to believe that it would really feel that awful during the night. The skin wasn't shriveled anymore, and while the skin was still darker than it normally was, it now looked a healthy brown. Only his nails were still black. So, the painful treatments with the potion had obviously been worth it.

After dinner, Bakari did clean the dishes, scouring them with sand and oil and then wiping them off with a snatch of cloth, grumbling the entire time.

When he was done, Mahes broke out a new bottle of wine. They spent the night in a similar way to the previous one, talking and laughing, until they got tired, and they were both too drunk to be self-conscious about curling up close together on the same sleeping mat, limbs entangled.

Bakari slept until afternoon again. His hand did hurt more when he woke up, but he thought the wine had allowed him to sleep through the worst of it. Mahes served up lunch again, giving Bakari more of the cheese since he'd liked it so much the previous night, along with some bread and water.

After they finished eating, Bakari looked at Mahes with a scowl and said, “So, more of that awful potion, I guess?”

“No, no. Just more salve this time. It shouldn't hurt.”

“Hm...maybe I'll pretend it hurts so you have to kiss me.” Bakari felt his cheeks heat, unable to believe he'd said that out loud.

But Mahes smiled and said, “I don't need a reason to kiss you.” Bakari blushed harder.

Mahes made more of the salve, and then rubbed it into Bakari’s hand.

As he worked, Bakari commented, “Mahes, huh? Don't you think it's a little arrogant to name yourself after a god?”

Mahes chuckled. “You're the one who calls yourself a king.”

“Hey, I earned that title,” Bakari said. “What did you do to earn being called a god?”

“Stick around and you'll find out,” Mahes said with a wink.

“Arrogant bastard,” Bakari scoffed.

“Do you want me to kiss you so your mouth is too occupied to keep insulting me? Is that what you're trying to accomplish?”

“I wouldn't complain.”

Mahes did kiss him, then. This time, they were able to go on for a while, without having to be interrupted by potion treatments for Bakari’s hand.

But eventually Mahes did stop and said, “So, I need to do a spell now. It's actually your last treatment, and it won't hurt at all. It's really simple. Just reading some words from a scroll, basically.”

Bakari flexed his hand, realizing that now the pain he'd had in it when he'd woken up was completely gone.

“You know...I'm not usually this generous, but...you did save my hand. And plus you've given me food and cooked for me...even if you did make me clean the dishes.” Bakari pulled a face at that last, but then went on. “So, you should take everything in the bag of treasure I brought for your payment.” Then Bakari gave him a slightly salacious look. “Besides...there are some things in there that I think will look good on you.”

“Thanks.” Mahes smiled. “That sounds like a fair deal. I haven't actually looked at what's in the bag yet, but I suppose I'll trust you and accept it as my payment.”

With that Mahes walked to Bakari with the scroll. He said the words, and there was a bright flash for a second.

“So that's it?” Bakari asked.

“Yeah. Should be all better now.”

Bakari held his hand up in front of his face. It did seem better. It looked completely normal now, as if he'd never been cursed.

Then Bakari looked down at the floor, rubbing a toe into the dirt. “So...I guess I'll just…”

“No, you don't have to,” Mahes said quickly. “I mean…”

Bakari raised his eyebrows.

Mahes swallowed. “Well...I noticed when you talked about the place where you're staying, you just called it the place you sleep, not...home or anything. So, you know...if you don't have anything you need to rush back to…” Mahes paused. “I mean, I'm trying to say...you're welcome to...stay awhile. If you want.”

Mahes looked down at his feet, uncharacteristically shy.

“Well…” Bakari thought for only a moment. “You are...interesting, for lack of a better term. And you cook for me. And like you said...it's not like I have much of anywhere particular that's better to be.”

Mahes looked back up, giving Bakari a wide smile.

“So, I'll stay on one condition.”

“Yeah?”

“If I stay, you have to show me why you deserve to be called a god.” Bakari smirked. “If you can prove it to me that you're right, then maybe I'll keep sticking around.”

Mahes smirked back. “It's a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is canon universe so obviously they go through a lot after this, and this is just a one-shot so it's not going to show any of that, but I promise that eventually post canon they live happily ever after!
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!
> 
> Happy birthday Malik!


End file.
